


hot or not

by anons



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anons/pseuds/anons
Summary: Newest update in the rumor mill: Huang Hendery, resident shape-shifter and mischief-maker, in his truest form, apparently looks like a god.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery
Comments: 13
Kudos: 98





	hot or not

“He’s a shapeshifter,” Donghyuck supplies.

Mark retracts his gaze to distractedly say, “Huh?” and then promptly goes back to staring at the strange scene. An almost two-meter tall grizzly bear in a tie-dye _I’m with stupid_ shirt has his—its?—arm around a guy who looks like he’s seconds away from committing murder. Two more boys trail after the odd pair with twin shit-eating laughter and loud, melding colors. It shouldn’t be strange, considering where they are ( _Neo Culture Academy—where diversity meets no boundary!!! Enroll your child now_ —), but Mark can’t drag his eyes away, somehow. It’s not the absurdity of the sight that’s making him stare, not really. It’s the pirouetting red around the monstrous animal. Lush, like the faded red of a rare afternoon sky.

Beside him, Donghyuck muses, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen his actual face since he transferred.”

“Who?” Chenle follows their eyes. “Oh! Him? Hendery, right?”

Mark finally manages to look away when the eye-catching group seat themselves to a faraway table. On their very own, Jaemin’s coffee is stirring itself. Chenle says, “Well, I’ve seen his face!” with his chest puffed out proud.

Donghyuck looks at him incredulously.

“It’s true. Chenle and I pass by his gym class often,” Jisung backs him up.

“I told you to stop concealing yourself during lunch, Jisung,” Jaemin scolds, body tilted somewhere to his right where he thinks Jisung is but he’s wrong. Mark knows because he sees the light blue outlining Jisung’s supposedly-invisible body. He doesn’t say anything about it, however.

Jisung chooses to ignore Jaemin. “He has pink hair.”

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

“No, he doesn’t,” Chenle retorts, sounding personally offended, and Jaemin frowns at Chenle for talking over and ignoring him too. “He has blond hair!”

“It’s pink.”

“It’s blond!”

“Are you blind? It was blond the last time we saw him—”

A huge gust of wind sends them both toppling over and falling to the ground. Donghyuck chirps out a, “Well, anyway!” and directs a casual smile to the rest of the table. “Anyway,” he repeats, moving forward, “I heard he’s hot.”

Something about that makes Mark frown. “Hey.”

“What? I’m just sharing what I heard.” Donghyuck shrugs, stealing a pretzel from Jeno’s plate. “What color does he have, anyway?”

“Red.”

“See? I told you.” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrows. “ _Hot._ ”

Just as Mark opens his mouth to retort, Chenle picks himself up from the floor, growling like a frazzled dog. Suddenly, the tips of Donghyuck’s index and middle fingers catch fire and essentially, the pretzel too. He yelps once he realizes, dropping the flaming pastry to the table and belatedly remembering to extinguish it seconds later with a frantic flick of his hand. Chenle reclaims his seat next to Donghyuck with a smug, satisfied smile.

Voice wry, Mark says, “Hot, huh?” and Donghyuck gives him the burnt, scalding finger.

A girl blowing Sakura-pink gum slithers in thin-roped ivies from outside into the open window without as much as a blink or a flick of the wrist. Mark watches its green leaves invade the eggshell-white walls of the lab. He’d read somewhere before that looking at plants relaxes strained eyes so he stares at them. A break, somewhat, from the other colors in the room. Sometimes, looking at auras feels like directly gazing at the sun. If he trains his eyes on them any longer, he’s probably gonna go blind.

“Are you trying to count hidden bugs from that vine or something?”

Mark blinks, then looks at the source of the voice—

Red. Sanguine red. It twirls around an outline of the person and Mark’s eyes focus and refocus until he sees a guy, apparently his classmate, looking at him. Queries instantly flood his mind once he recognizes the color: was he Hendery, the famed shapeshifter, or is it just someone with a similar color? If he is the shapeshifter, is that his actual face? Why hasn’t he noticed him in class before?

More importantly, why is his color so _loud?_

Mark ultimately remembers to answer and he dumbly lets out a, “Huh?”

“You were squinting at the ivies.”

“Oh,” Mark says, head spinning around the tantalizing color, and he forces himself to look down instead. “Yeah, I was just resting my eyes.”

“Resting?”

“Y’know.” His hand flails to feebly gesture. “From the colors. I’m an empath.”

Hendery’s (?????????) eyes widen. “Wow! That’s cool. What color is mine?”

Mark keeps his eyes glued to the faded S on his hoodie and lamely says, “Red.”

“Red? Like, dark red or pinkish red?”

“Dark red, mostly.”

“Aw, it should’ve been pink,” Hendery (????????) clicks his tongue. “Well, anyway, that’s a great power to have, I think. Seeing auras.”

“I guess,” Mark allows, “but it comes with a price, mostly. We’re more prone to eye problems.”

“Oh. Don’t you have glasses?”

“I do but they broke last week,” he sighs. “I’m still waiting for the replacement to be delivered.”

Hendery (???????) grins. “Well if you need help locating the test tubes, I’m right here.”

Laughter helplessly bubbles out of Mark’s mouth. “Thank you,” he says, and when he chances another look up, the color reminds him of dawn breaking. Hendery (??????) smiles wider. “No problem.”

Mark looks away again.

For a while, he tinkers with the test tubes with careful hands, and Mark has to will himself not to stare too much. Are you the shapeshifter? he tries in his mind. No—too much. Risky word choice. Are you _a_ shapeshifter? Is that your actual face? How long have you been taking this class? What’s your name?

What comes out of his mouth is, “You don’t actually go to this class, do you?”

Hendery (?????) freezes. “What?”

“Uh, I mean—” he peruses a catalogue of words to say, “It’s just that I’ve never noticed you before, and your color—uh. It’s… new? I’m not usually good with faces but I remember most colors and—yeah.”

“Oh,” Hendery (????) says a second too late, “Maybe you just don’t remember mine?”

“Eh, maybe? But your color is loud, though—” he realizes, and then frantically amends, “I mean, not in a bad way! Some colors, uh, some are like that. It’s not necessarily bad. I just couldn’t word it properly. It’s not bad loud, it’s good loud. Like—” he lets out an embarrassed laugh, “It’s, uh, it’s pretty eye-catching, is what I’m saying because it’s a unique shade of red, and it kind of looks—”

Hendery (???) tilts his head.

“—looks cool,” Mark finishes lamely.

Hendery (??) laughs. “Thanks.”

And then they don’t speak again—atmosphere between them quiet like trailing vines. That is, until he looks at Mark again to hesitantly say, “You’re right.”

“What?”

“I don’t go to this class,” he says in almost a whisper, leaning in, and Mark’s eyes widen, “I snuck in because I initially wanted to take this class but well,” he chuckles bashfully, “I’m on probationary status from my previous school, and they didn’t allow me extra load to my preassigned classes.” He looks at Mark hopefully. “You’re not gonna rat me out, are you?”

Mark blinks furiously before leaning away and rambling, “What? No, dude, that’s—that’s fine. It’s fine, really. It’s not—I’m not that kind of person.”

“Really?” his face brightens.

“Yeah, it’s not like you’re planning to cause trouble or something.”

He laughs and sheepishly says, “I can’t promise that.”

“What’s—what’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Hendery,” he says, “I’m a shapeshifter.”

Gotcha—so it _is_ him. “I’m Mark.”

“Hi, Mark,” Hendery (!!!!) grins, enveloped in sanguine mirth, “Wanna go to lunch with my friends?”

Hendery’s circle of friends include a werewolf who he says is his fourth cousin (Jesus, Mark had no idea those type of cousins even existed), a half-android, and someone with eyes that could superbeam him to death. Mark recognizes him as the one Hendery The Grizzly Bear had his arm around during that strange display the other day. Together, all four make up the loudest mix of colors Mark has seen in his life.

After introductions, Dejun—superbeam guy—excitedly says, “Hey, Hendery, watch this. Yangyang, dance.”

Instantly, Yangyang gets up from where he’d been nibbling on a tonkatsu and break dances in the middle of the room. Mark watches, impressed. Hendery laughs and says, “Showing him off to the new guy?”

“It’s not that,” Dejun says as Yangyang finishes with a pose and barely a skip in his breath. “Watch. Great job, Yangyang!”

Yangyang beams. “Thank you, Dejun-hyung!”

Hendery looks amazed. “Hyung?”

“That’s not all,” Dejun grins, cocking his head to Yangyang still beaming and looking at Dejun with expectant eyes. When nothing happens, Yangyang crouches to scavenge through his bag and he procures a three-star stamp which he proudly pastes to his wrist.

Dejun laughs delightedly.

“Ten-hyung modelled the new Polite Yangyang after the kids in that kindergarten beside their HQ,” Yukhei explains when Dejun remains laughing, “If you compliment him, he’s gonna expect star stamps and if you don’t give it to him, he’s gonna give it to himself.”

“Oh my god,” Hendery gapes, absolutely gleeful, “Is that update permanent?”

“Probably not. Ten-hyung just found it funny but I heard he’s working on a new update now.”

Hendery sighs dramatically. “Guess I’ll just have to enjoy it till it lasts.”

They eat as dust motes float from the windows to the floor of the abandoned classroom, lunchboxes propped up to classroom seats missing a leg. Yukhei tells him an entire epic of how Hendery (“ _Hey, it wasn’t entirely my fault!_ ”) got them all expelled which involved a Halloween party, too realistic costumes, and pig’s blood. Lots of them. Mark tells them about his friends and the eclectic mix of their powers. By the time they finish lunch and graciously walk Mark to his next class, Dejun comments, “Hey, I just realized you didn’t change back.”

Mark is confused before he realizes Dejun isn’t talking to him.

“Oh.” Hendery tilts his head lazily, “Yeah.”

“What do you mean ‘change back’?” Mark asks.

Dejun furrows his eyebrows.

Mark realizes. “You mean that’s not his true form?” he looks at Hendery whose face is actually not his and the thought makes him feel weird. “Dude.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Hendery laughs, and at that moment, they arrive in Mark’s classroom which he grandly gestures to. It sweeps the entire discussion under the mat and leaves Mark wondering until his next teacher comes.

Mark says, “I had lunch with Hendery yesterday.”

Donghyuck chokes on his rice. Chenle perks up, stretching forward and purposely digging his elbow to where Jisung supposedly is to insistently say, “He had blond hair, right? Right right right? Please tell me it’s blond—” and Jisung instantly materializes to show the whole table his frown.

“Stop elbowing me! Also, it’s pink! Right, Mark-hyung? It’s pink, right?”

“I don’t know, actually,” he admits. “I didn’t see his actual face.”

Donghyuck asks, “What did he appear as, then?”

“Some random dude, I think,” Mark says. “I don’t know. Probably another student whose face he copied.”

“How are you sure that it’s not his actual face though?” Chenle asks.

“Because his friends said so.”

“What if,” Donghyuck starts, leaning in conspiringly, “what if it’s his actual face and he’s lying to you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at Mark. “Was he hot?”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Come on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he says, “why should it matter? Stop obsessing over surface features.”

“That means he’s not,” Jeno breaks his silence to translate.

Mark frowns.

“Oh, so he is?” Jaemin counters, and when Mark doesn’t answer, Donghyuck slams his hands on the table dramatically. He says, “That’s it, who wants to bet?”

Jisung conceals himself.

“No, Jisung, no hiding.” Donghyuck grabs at him blindly and manages to catch an invisible sleeve. “You’re in this. Let’s bet 10000 won on whether he’s hot or not. I’m betting yes.”

Mark protests. “Guys, come on—”

“Jeno and I are going with no,” Jaemin says, putting an arm around his boyfriend. “Right, babe?” To which Jeno responds with a simple, “As long as you use your own wallet when you lose, I have no problem,” and then he sips on his juice box.

Chenle snorts, betting no. “We’re not gonna lose. I saw him. He had blond hair and an average face. Which is probably why he liked changing his form.”

Donghyuck crosses his arms. “Jisung?”

Jisung is quiet for a while, space empty and silent beside Chenle, before he meekly says, “I bet yes.”

Donghyuck just nods and Mark is ready to reject his turn, ready to say, “Leave me out of this,” the second Donghyuck asks for his bet but he doesn’t, just claps his hands together and says, “Well, anyway, that’s it! No take-backs!” And Mark blinks, almost close to believing in higher beings when Donghyuck announces, “Results depend on Mark-hyung, by the way!”

Mark jerks. “What?”

“What,” Donghyuck mimics, “you think you’re getting out of this easily? You’re the least concerned about this out of all of us. Therefore, you’re the least biased. We all have different types so we can’t exactly collectively agree whether he’s hot or not when we see his actual face and we need someone _not_ in the bet to decide it for us to make sure the results aren’t biased.”

“Why not Jeno?” he complains, “Jeno doesn’t care, too.”

“Yeah, but Jeno is dating Jaemin,” says Donghyuck flippantly, “and Jaemin could easily influence his judgement if he wanted to. So it’s up to you.”

“That’s not fair. Leave—”

“You out of this?” Donghyuck finishes, laughing, “Nah. You got into this mess the minute you mentioned him in this lunch table.” His eyes twinkle. “Besides, aren’t you curious, too?”

Students pour out of classrooms like water. Mark sticks to the walls as they barrel down the halls with copious amounts of magic exuding in eddies. An over-enthusiastic freshman leaves a trail of glitter in his wake and as Mark reaches his locker, a too-happy voice greets him.

“Hey!”

Mark looks behind his locker door. “Oh, hey Dejun.” He stops then squints at the red enveloping Dejun’s body, the color floating above his black hair like a crown that doesn’t fit. “Wait.”

“Hendery, actually,” Not-really-Dejun laughs, and oh, that makes sense. “Sorry ‘bout that. Yangyang had this brilliant idea of me going to school as Dejun for the day.”

Mark chuckles. “Has Dejun seen?”

“Yeah, and he warned me straight up to not ruin his school record,” Hendery grins. “What’s your next class?”

“Botany.”

“Cool. The gardens are by the auditorium, right?” he says. “I have Gym next. Wanna walk together?”

Mark smiles. “Why not?”

They make idle talk for a while, and it isn’t until somebody greets Hendery in the halls, the person thinking it’s Dejun, that Mark’s thoughts recalibrate. Hendery just greets back nonchalantly and laughs when the person leaves. “People are completely fooled all the time,” he says, then looks at Mark. “Well, okay, not _all_ the time.”

The voice in Mark’s head sounds suspiciously like Donghyuck. “Aren’t you gonna change back?”

“Huh?”

“Like, to your actual face or whatever.” Mark looks away. “I mean, you have gym class next, right?”

“Oh yeah, guess I have to in a bit.” Hendery winces. “I don’t know why they’re so strict about shifting.”

“Something about physical capabilities,” he responds, looking at Hendery again but seeing that he hasn’t changed yet. There’s a mini-Donghyuck somewhere in his mind, he’s sure, and it’s standing on its tippy-toes. Curious and impatient and raring to see what Hendery actually looks like. He doesn’t change the entire time, however, and it isn’t until they arrive in front of Mark’s classroom that he realizes he won’t be seeing it today. Today’s not the day, it seems. He says, “Well, this is me.”

“Right, yeah.” Hendery nods. “See you around, Mark.”

“See you,” he returns, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice, and Hendery walks backwards to flash him one last smile before turning on his heels. Mark crosses the threshold to his classroom and when he looks one last time, he sees Hendery’s retreating figure and catches a head of light brown hair beneath all that red running to the auditorium.

Light brown hair?

He looks back again, realizing, but by then, Hendery’s already too far for Mark’s criminally bad eyesight to properly see.

“He has brown hair,” Mark says. Casually, of course.

It’s Chenle that chokes this time. Donghyuck gapes at him and says, “What? So you saw him? Oh my god, what does he look like? Do I win?”

“Chill, I didn’t see him.” Mark drives a palm to Donghyuck’s nearing forehead. “Not his face, at least. I saw his back though.”

Jisung asks, “How are you so sure it’s him?”

“Because he was on the way to gym class, that’s why.”

“Well, is he hot?” Jaemin asks, and when Mark raises an eyebrow, he defends, “What? Actual hot people look hot even when they have their backs to you.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It’s true!”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck dismisses him with a soft gust of air that brushes Jaemin’s immaculately gelled bangs back. “Anyway, make sure you see him the next time. I don’t know why it’s taking you so long to see his actual face.”

“We’ve only started talking to each other four days ago, Donghyuck.”

“Your point?”

“Hey,” Jeno arrives, placing a tray with his and Jaemin’s food on the table, “Why are the table napkins on fire?”

Donghyuck moves away so fast the chair skids against the floor in a deafening screech. “Chenle!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chenle says flippantly, extinguishing it. “Anyway, brown hair is closest to blond, right? This means that I’m right and you’re wrong, Jisung-ah.”

Mark thinks it’s frustratingly impressive how long the bet’s been holding out. It’s been more than two weeks, and he’s seen Hendery as a bear, the student he keeps posing as in their Potions class, Dejun, their Potions professor, a cat which he calls Leon, and even as _himself_ yet he hasn’t seen a single eyelash of Hendery’s actual face. He’s close to believing that his actual face is the one Mark keeps seeing during his MWF Potions class.

 _Well what if it actually is?_ reads Donghyuck text, and it’s only eight a.m, god damn it, it’s too early for this. _Do I win?_

_Stop texting in class, Donghyuck._

_Boooo!_

The person in question arrives in the room bunched up like it’s winter and immediately takes his unofficial seat next to Mark. “Hey,” Hendery exhales, removing the hood of his jacket, “The rain is so bad, and I swear this guy’s hair must be magically capable of absorbing a shit ton of water or something because even with the hood, I got _soaked_.”

Mark laughs, pocketing his phone. “You look awful, man.”

Hendery gasps dramatically. “Are you insulting this completely innocent and clueless guy?”

“I wasn’t—you know what I mean!” Mark sputters, and tries to relieve himself, “Well, who is he, anyway?”

“I’m kidding, he’s no one,” he cackles at Mark’s face, “Not an actual person, at least, because I don’t want to be accused of identity theft. I just threw in a bunch of common features to blend in with the rest of the class.”

Mark’s eyes widen, remembering his classes. “Isn’t that hard? Creating a completely new form takes a lot of skill, right? Most shapeshifters usually just copy.” He gapes. “You must be _really_ good.”

“I’m not, really.”

“Dude.”

Hendery looks embarrassed. “It’s something I got used to doing as a kid, that’s all. But there’s still a lot about shapeshifting I need to learn.”

Minutes later, class starts and their teacher, an old woman with hair like pale wisterias, pairs them with their seatmates for today’s experiment. As she drawls through the instructions, her marker magically glides against the whiteboard behind her. Mark and Hendery follow through—clumsily careful.

“This was a bad idea. Watch me quit this class after this experiment,” Hendery says after their fourth failed attempt, and he backtracks when he sees Mark’s face, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I’ll never leave you!”

Mark snorts, pleased.

When he looks up after their fifth attempt, he does a double-take. “Did you change your hair?”

“Yeah,” Hendery laughs, eyes trained on the tubes, “It was taking too long to dry.”

“It’s brown.”

“It is,” he affirms. “It’s my current hair color, actually.”

Mark looks at it incredulously. “Right.”

Hendery keeps his gaze glued to the tubes but he looks up curiously when Mark resumes staring. He asks, “You alright?”

“Nothing.” Mark shakes his head. “It’s just that…”

“What?”

“My friends think you look good,” he spills like the fool he is, and when he realizes, it’s too late to take it back by then. “I—I mean, some of them. At least.”

Hendery laughs. “What?”

“They haven’t seen you or anything,” Mark continues, embarrassed, “Not your actual face, anyway. It’s just that—” he holds back, “They’re trying to figure out what you actually look like and some have a hunch that you actually look good. Like, your actual face.” He’s probably redder than the slow-dancing color around Hendery at this point. “Sorry. They’re a bunch of meddling kids. I didn’t—anyway, it’s not a big deal or anything. I don’t know why I’m saying this. Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Hendery grins, playful. “They’re not wrong, though.”

“What?”

“What your friends are thinking. They’re not wrong.”

Mark gathers his courage. “Well, I’m gonna have to see it to believe.”

Hendery just laughs.

“I’m getting ice cream with Hendery after school,” Mark lets out.

No one chokes this time but the whole table does pause. Donghyuck looks up from where he’d been murdering his slice of bread with jam to say, “What?”

“I’m getting ice cream with him?” Mark repeats, “Y’know, at the parlor downtown.”

Donghyuck places his finished sandwich down neatly. “So you see him in class three times a week, have lunch with him occasionally, and now you’re going on ice cream dates with him yet you haven’t seen his actual face?”

Mark flushes. “It’s not a date!”

“Sure,” Chenle snorts. “That’s what Jaemin and Jeno-hyung kept saying too the first few months they got together.”

“It’s not,” he hisses, embarrassed. “Really.”

“Can you date someone you haven’t actually seen?” Jisung wonders somewhere from the left.

“I’m not—"

Jaemin asks, “Will this affect the results of the bet? Because we’re calling it off if it does.”

“Oh my god.” Mark closes his eyes, pained. “I don’t—it’s not—look, the bet is stupid anyway so you can call it off if you want. Hendery is a great guy, alright? Hot or not. He’s nice and funny and he’s a great lab partner. Plus, he has a unique and pretty color.”

The rest of the table stare at him. Jeno says, “Hyung, do you know how you sound right now?”

“I was just describing him!”

“He likes Hendery,” Chenle says gravely. “He likes Hendery and I’m calling off the bet. I don’t want to participate in something so unfair.”

Mark practically yells. “I just said he had a pretty color!”

Donghyuck observes him and then clicks his tongue in a final tone. “Alright, everyone, that’s enough. Leave Mark and his color-boner alone.”

Mark gapes, horrified, face red. “Donghyuck!”

“What?” Donghyuck shrugs at him, picking up his sandwich. To the rest of the table, he says, “A bet is a bet. Absolutely _no one_ is calling it off.”

They meet up at the school gates, and Hendery still looks like the Hendery from Potions class.

“Hey,” Mark breathes, looking around for eavesdroppers or spies or meddlers. You know, like his friends. “Sorry, did you wait long?”

“Nah.” Hendery peels his back off the wall with a smile. “Shall we go?”

The ice cream parlor is smaller than the rest of the shops in the block but brighter. Inside, the walls are baby blue with halo-colored LED signs. A pink-bathed girl smiles at them from the counter when they enter.

“Thank god.” Mark shrugs the hood of his jacket off. “For an ice cream parlor this place sure is warm.”

“It was barely windy outside, Mark,” Hendery laughs.

“Not everyone’s tolerant to the cold like you!”

They situate themselves under a three-piece wall art, and Hendery stubbornly insists on ordering and paying for the both of them. Grinning at Mark’s slumped posture, Hendery asks, “Any particular flavor you like?”

“Eh, anything from the bestsellers maybe,” Mark waves him off. “I’m not really picky.”

Hendery salutes playfully. “Roger that!”

He fiddles with his phone the entire time. Trying (and failing) to beat his highest 1010 score, ignoring (and royally failing—again) his meddling friends’ messages from the group chat. Hendery arrives a few minutes later, sitting in front of him and sliding the fancy glass cups to the table. “I hope you like caramel because that’s what they recommended,” Hendery says, and Mark sends one last _i will block every single one of you_ to the group chat before finally looking up.

Someone switches off the circuit board from the very back of his mind.

“You can have some of mine, if you want,” Hendery is saying, “I got strawberry and lathered it with chocolate syrup. They fit together, I swear—” he looks up, pausing at Mark’s frozen expression. Then, he smiles. “Um, yeah, hi.”

Mark blinks wildly. “Uh.”

“Right, well,” Hendery starts, “This is me. Actually me. Hi. It’s nice to see you, or something.” He clears his throat when Mark doesn’t reply. “Please say something.”

The circuit bursts back to life, and Mark stammers. “Crap. Uh, sorry. I was just—sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he bites his tongue and looks away, absolutely embarrassed, “It’s nice to meet you. See you. Whatever. You look, um.”

Hendery laughs lightly. “Eloquent as ever, Mark Lee.”

“Shut up,” Mark gripes. Flushes, looks again, and flushes even more. “Sorry. I don’t really mean that. I was just surprised.”

“It’s alright,” Hendery assures, visibly relaxing. “I am aware of the effect I have on people.”

Despite himself, Mark laughs, and he brings his hands up to cover his embarrassment. “Come on.”

“What?” Hendery grins. “Are you denying it?”

Mark shakes his head, burning face still buried to his palms. “I can’t believe this.”

Hendery can’t keep the delight out of his voice when he laughs. “Aw, Mark, you don’t have to be so embarrassed,” he says, trying to peel Mark’s hands off his face, “It’s just me! Still me! Hendery from Potions!”

“I know that,” Mark groans, swatting Hendery’s prying hands off. “Just—give me a minute.”

Later, when Mark’s certain that Hendery has given up on tormenting him, he finally looks up. Sits up straighter, clears his throat. Hendery is still there, actively trying to hold back from teasing. “Your ice cream’s melting,” he tells Mark.

Mark scoops in to avoid talking.

Much, much later, Mark finds himself getting used to the whole thing and the earlier fiasco melting away like ice cream. Hendery finishes his and suddenly says, “Hey, watch this.”

Mark watches Hendery’s hair paint itself to pastels. “See? Like ice cream,” he grins proudly, and Mark laughs, looking at the colors on Hendery’s hair mixing like acrylic on a palette, feeling light.

Hendery is still Hendery, in the end.

The next day, Renjun comes back from his three-month exchange program. He instantly slots back to place by threatening to remove Donghyuck’s mouth if he keeps talking. “Anyway,” he says pointedly, “what did I miss?”

“We have an ongoing bet,” Chenle chimes.

“No,” Mark instantly says.

“Yes!” Donghyuck cries, “The bet. Mark-hyung, I forgot to ask, but how’d it go yesterday? Did you see his face? Did he walk you home?” He plants his elbows on the table. “Was he _hot?_ ”

“What is happening?” Renjun demands.

Chenle grins evilly, “Mark-hyung has a new—oh wait, that’s them!” and then shamelessly points to the group loudly making its way to the cafeteria. Mark hears Yangyang and Yukhei’s raucous laughter from afar and finds the cause of it all announcing itself beside them: a lion mascot dressed in a cheerleading costume trailing after Dejun, jumping up and down happily, pawing at Dejun’s shoulder.

It’s Hendery, obviously.

“Oh god,” Mark laughs, unable to help himself. Dejun looks like he wants to kill.

“His transformations are getting bolder everyday,” Jeno comments.

Renjun squints at the group. “Who the hell is that?” suddenly, his eyes widen and oh no, Mark should’ve seen that as the first sign of trouble, “Oh my god, is that—Yangyang! Dejun! Yukhei!” He calls out, waving wildly for attention, “Hendery!”

Every single head in their table snaps to Renjun.

“Hey, you rascals, it’s me!” he continues flailing, and Mark watches them approach the table with slow-spreading dread, Hendery’s mascot paws thumping all over the floor.

“Renjun!” Yukhei yells out happily.

Jaemin furrows his eyebrows. “How do you _know_ them?”

Renjun stands up to let himself be swung around by Yukhei and to throw his arms around the others. “I didn’t know you guys were transferring here,” he laughs, Hendery’s big lion arm still slung around his shoulders, then turns to his still-gawking friends seated on the table. “These are my friends,” he explains, proceeding to point, “That’s Yangyang, Dejun, and Yukhei, my cousin. This here is Hendery,” he pokes the lion mascot and pointedly says, “He’s my cousin too, and he should learn to be polite and show his actual face when being introduced to new people.”

Hendery laughs, and in split-second, shifts back in a puff of smoke. “Hey guys,” he smiles, eyes catching Mark’s.

Jaws drop, naturally.

Renjun introduces everybody in their table, too, and Mark would laugh at his friends’ faces if he didn’t feel oddly nervous. Even Jisung has materialized to mutely squawk. When Renjun finishes introductions, his face contorts into confusion. “What the hell is wrong with you all?”

Donghyuck snaps out of it. “Hi! It’s nice to meet you guys!” and the others follow choppily, trying not to stare at Hendery too much.

The quartet excuse themselves minutes later to line up for their food. Mark counts three seconds before someone, Donghyuck probably, bursts with a, “Holy _shit_.”

Jaemin clears his throat. “You said 10000 won, right?”

Donghyuck looks over at him, still in shock. “Yeah.”

Jaemin reaches for his wallet calmly and bundles up bills to slide over to Donghyuck and Jisung. “That’s from me and Jeno,” he says, breathing out. “Hot damn, he looked like _god._ ”

Mark gawks, looking at Jeno.

“What?” Jeno shrugs at Mark’s pointed look, “I agree with him.”

Chenle jerks. “Oh man!” he complains but pays up anyway.

Mark stares at them. “Aren’t you guys supposed to ask me?” he asks them incredulously, watching Donghyuck count his money.

Donghyuck fixes him a look. “Well, do you think he’s hot, Mark Lee?”

Mark catches a glimpse of Hendery across the cafeteria.

“ _What the hell is happening?_ ” Renjun yells impatiently.

Hendery looks back and grins when he sees Mark, mouthing a _see you later!!!_ around his beam. Mark hastily says, “Nevermind,” and stuffs his mouth with food to tamp down a slow-forming smile.

**Author's Note:**

> mark lee said i agree that hendery is an entire visual but hes more than that


End file.
